Tea and Comfort
by MorningGlory2
Summary: A prompt from Rhona Mitra Mania and omgchyleric on Twitter! Rachel and Ashley bond over tea, and Rachel helps to guide Tom and Ashley in the right direction, only to find a little guidance herself. This will be a two-shot.


**this takes place a few days after the end of 2x02. Reviews are love and greatly appreciated.**

 _-This idea was requested by omgchyleric and Rhona Mitra Mania on twitter! These lovely friends came to me and asked for a story about Rachel and Ashley sharing tea, ending in some Tom and Rachel. I do hope you enjoy it! This will be a two-shot, as my muse deviated a little from their original idea in this first part, however, the second part will be on point with their request._

 _Do you have an idea for a one shot? Send it my way here or on twitter!_

The ward room door opened slowly, and Rachel turned from where she was making herself a cup of tea at the hot water basin. The young brunette emerged from around the door, and Rachel offered a small smile to thirteen year old Ashley Chandler. The girl was dressed in leggings and an oversized Navy sweatshirt, her shoulder-length hair tied up in a messy bun on her head. Rachel steeped her tea bag in the hot water, turning to face the girl fully.

"Good evening, Ashley," Rachel greeted as the teen approached. Rachel watched her, noticed the small bags under her pretty eyes, the sad way she smiled in return. Her heart went out to the girl—she knew the loss of a mother all too well. They hadn't spoken much; she'd been introduced to the children upon their return to the _Nathan James_. Sam had unfortunately had an adverse side-effect to the vaccine and she was keeping a watchful eye on the child, while working to mass produce the vaccine. Ashley was often around for Sam's check-ups, while she rarely saw Tom. She wasn't surprised, nor did she push it. He was grieving. He'd lost his wife. She was sure the wound was most certainly very raw, and very real.

"Hello, Dr. Scott," Ashley stepped toward the basket of homemade cookies, grabbing one. Bacon had taken to the children, tried to create a semblance of home for them during this time on the ship. They were moving toward Norfolk, making good time. Rachel knew it was only a few days before Tom would take his family home—she wasn't sure where that would leave them.

"Please, dear, call me Rachel," she encouraged Ashley, setting her tea down on the table. Ashley held the saran-wrapped cookie in her hands and nodded, seemingly unsure of her next move. Rachel took a chance, moved back to the rack of mugs. "Ashley, would you like to have a cup of tea with me? I would enjoy some company," her voice was friendly, calming. She felt like the young girl needed a female friend, and with Alisha still recovering and Kara taking shifts in their makeshift medical ward in the other large helicopter bay, Rachel knew the female interaction was limited. She'd kept her distance personally from the children, but something about Ashley's crestfallen expression was giving Rachel a weak moment.

"Okay," Ashley watched as Rachel poured the hot water over the chamomile tea bag.

"Great. Take a seat," Rachel gestured toward from of the many chairs, dropping a few ice cubes into Ashley's tea to cool it for her. Ashley sat next to the right of the head of the table and Rachel sat in Tom's usual spot, not worrying about protocol at this moment. Rachel placed the Tom's mug before Ashley, knowing her father wouldn't mind his daughter making use of it. Ashley twirled it was her hands as Rachel sat down.

"He had a mug like this at home, always drank three cups of coffee in the mornings when he was home," the confession was small, but spoke volumes to Rachel. The young girl missed her life. Rachel didn't blame her one bit. She kept silent, watching Tom's daughter with honest, comforting eyes. "Mom would always make pancakes on Saturdays, and then Dad would take me to my riding lesson," she added, staring at the liquid in the mug.

"What type of riding did you do?" Rachel inquired softly. A faint smile graced Ashley's lips.

"English. I jumped. I rode a big bay Thoroughbred named Thor. I loved him," her voice was wistful, but there was a happiness that Rachel hadn't heard from the child. "I used to show. I was learning to jump three feet before…this all happened," her voice drifted off, her eyes falling back to her mug.

"Jumping is wonderful, isn't it? I used to ride back in England," Rachel told Ashley, trying to find a common ground between them, trying to avoid the topic of the present.

"Really? My mom did too, that's why I started," Ashley explained, and Rachel felt a change to their conversation. She sipped her tea, taking a moment to decide whether she should bring up the subject or not.

"Did she also jump?" Rachel inquired, cautiously opening the door. Ashley nodded, that faint smile returning.

"She did. Sometimes we'd go out on the trails together, and race, jumping downed trees and stuff. It was something only she and I did together."

"That sounds wonderful. I'm sure she was very proud of you for picking up the sport she enjoyed too," Rachel watched Ashley sip her tea, hoped this conversation and the easing tea would provide her some peace.

"She used to say that all the time, that she loved that I took it up. Dad would take me sometimes, he would stay and watch, but he was always so nervous I would fall. Mom was never nervous," a defiant smile crossed the girl's face, and Rachel couldn't help but smile in return.

"Fearless, are you?"

"Yes. So is Dad. Mom always said I got it from him, and that was why he was always so afraid to watch me ride."

"He was afraid you'd get hurt. She trusted your abilities," Rachel agreed. Ashley nodded.

"He would cringe every time I took a fence, and when I fell, I'd hear him and Mom fight about him wanting me to stop before I got hurt too badly. He was always afraid something bad would happen," her voice drifted off again, and Rachel watched her eyes drop again, the sadness return.

"He loves you, that's why he worries."

"I wish he could have saved her. I wish _I_ could have saved her. She didn't deserve to die," there were no tears; Rachel suspected she didn't have any left to shed. But her voice was sad, her shoulders slumping forward a little.

"I am sure he wishes he could have saved her too, more than anything," she chanced to reach forward, her hand rubbing the girl's arm. "But there was nothing you could have done, Ashley. You couldn't save her. This is no fault of your own," Rachel tried her best to comfort Ashley. When her big brown eyes met her own, Rachel could see the pain there.

"I miss her so much," Ashly whispered, "And Dad is in so much pain, I can't even tell him how much I do."

"I know your father well enough to know he would _always_ want you to talk to him. About your mother, or anything at all. He misses her as much as you do, I'm sure. But miss her together. Why miss her apart? Celebrate her memory. I'm sure she'd want that," Rachel held strong conviction in her voice, encouraging Ashley. She wished someone had encouraged her when she had been that age.

Rachel had wanted to bring up Darien to Tom, pass on her condolences, but couldn't find the right words. She knew Ashley's unsureness. Tom was not an easy one to talk to, and protected his privacy as much as he protected his ship. But Rachel could encourage Ashley to talk with him, to open up to him. It was the least she could do to help strengthen the bond between a father and daughter.

"You don't think he'd be mad?"

Rachel's eyes widened at the words, confused. "Mad? Your father would never be mad at you for talking to him about your mother," she said incredulously. Ashley looked dubious.

"He's so sad, though," a little sniffle escaped the young girl, and Rachel was sure she was about to cry.

"Sweet girl, you're sad too. And I know he wouldn't want you to be sad in secret. _Talk to him_ , I promise you'll be glad you did," she squeezed Ashley's arm, offering her a kind smile. Ashley wiped a tear and sighed. "And I bet it'll help you sleep," she added with a knowing expression.

"I sleep," the teen scoffed. Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Those bags under your eyes tell me otherwise," She picked up her own tea, and gestured to Ashley to do the same, "Drink your tea and talk to your father. Doctor's orders," Rachel leaned back in her chair with a smile on her face and Ashley begrudgingly nodded.

"Okay," she sighed. Rachel sipped her tea.

"Good girl. We all can't be strong all the time."

"Tell that to my Dad," Ashley retorted. Rachel let a laugh escape. She thoroughly enjoyed the girl's wit and strength. She was so much her father's daughter.

XXXXX

Rachel escorted Ashley back to Tom's at-port cabin, bidding the young girl good night. Ashley seemed to debate a hug, but Rachel didn't push the issue, simply enveloped her from the side, squeezing her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. Ashley gave her a relaxed smile before she entered the room, promising she'd sleep. Rachel stared at the door for a moment, smiling to herself. The Chandlers would be okay, despite this terrible tragedy. At least the children would be. Tom. Well, she hoped he'd be all right.

She was heading back down the p-way, when Tom stepped through a hatch to her left, causing her to step to the side to avoid bumping into him. He stepped back slightly, bowing his head in apologies.

"Sorry about that, I wasn't watching where I was going," he said softly, his blue eyes panning up to catch her face. Truth be told, he hadn't talked with her much unless it was professional. Had been so caught up in his own world, he hadn't checked on her since Baltimore. He felt bad, but his mind was elsewhere. Seeing her now, he noticed how relaxed, yet unsure she appeared. She brushed a hair behind her ear.

"I wasn't either, actually. It's no one's fault," she gave him a soft grin, her eyes meeting his.

"Everything all right with Sam?" He looked toward the direction she'd just come, and her gaze followed before she nodded.

"Yes, I checked on him earlier. He's doing just fine. I actually had walked Ashley back to the room—we had tea together in the ward room this evening," she told him, leaning her shoulder against the other hatch. Tom slipped his hands in his pockets.

"Now you've got my daughter on the hard stuff, I see," he kidded, his eyes lighting up just a little. Rachel shrugged, the grin never leaving her face.

"I leave the hard stuff for you, Captain. I gave her a cup of chamomile, to help her sleep," she wouldn't give him all the answers, but it didn't hurt to point him in the right direction. She watched his brow furrow in concern.

"She's not sleeping?" his tone softened, and Rachel could see worry cloud his expressive blues.

"I think she misses her mother," Rachel offered up, a small sigh escaping.

Tom didn't speak at first, just nodded, his eyes now downcast. When he looked back up, she wondered if they were truly as glassy as she was thinking they were. She also couldn't help but notice the tired line on his handsome face. "She's so strong," Tom sighed, shifting his weight, crossing his arms, "She hasn't said anything and I didn't think to ask," It was a rare moment of vulnerability for him, but Rachel didn't capitalize on it.

"She gets that from you," Rachel observed, her easy gaze never wavering from his. "And I think she knows you're grieving right now, doesn't want to add to your woes."

"She can always talk to me," hurt resounded in his voice, and he dropped his head for a moment. Rachel found herself reaching out and placing her hand on his crossed arm gently. His eyes rose to meet hers.

"Tell her that," Rachel encouraged softly. He licked him lips, nodding, not breaking the eye contact. "Maybe it'll also help _you_ sleep," she grinned. He scoffed.

"I sleep."

Rachel couldn't help but laugh lightly, "Mmhmm. I heard that same reaction from the young girl I made chamomile tea for earlier. I suggest you try it sometime," Rachel patted his arm before turning to head on her way. His hand caught her arm though and it stopped her in her tracks. She looked back at him, her eyes questioning.

"Thank you. For talking to her. And to me." She knew his words were sincere, could feel the warmth radiating off his body from the close proximity from where he stood. His hand dropped and she nodded.

"You're welcome. Anytime," she replied. The moment lasted an ounce longer before he seemed to return to reality, clearing his throat.

"Goodnight, Dr. Scott," he said with a small smile. She smiled in return.

"Goodnight, Captain." As she walked away, she could feel his eyes on her back, but she didn't dare turn, for those blues could easily tow her right back. She knew in her heart that he had a lot of grieving to do, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be there for him whenever he needed a friend along the way. They'd been through too much to not owe each other. And anything else she felt for that man, well, that would need to be kept under lock and key for the immediate, and probably less immediate, future. She made a mental note to stop by and check on Ashley in the morning, hoping she'd have only good news to share. She was thankful they had each other, despite the loss of their mother.

As for her…she had her work. And the lab. At least it kept her mind busy and off things she _couldn't_ control.


End file.
